Up, Up, and Away!
by tis.my.art
Summary: It's time for New Directions to take a vacation. With an all paid for trip to California (incl. a stay at Disneyland), thanks to a mysterious benefactor, the New Directions are in for a treat - together! AU universe - only Season 1 has happened. Everything else has not. Don't know where it's going, but it will (hopefully) be fun!
1. The Letter

William Shuester unlocked the door to his office. The school was empty, as it was a Saturday, but he felt he had no better place to go on his birthday. Since his divorce, he didn't enjoy spending it at his apartment, and he knew Emma wouldn't throw a party because there was too much mess involved. She hadn't agreed to a date either, in part because she believed a man should pay on the first date but not on his birthday, and in part because she wasn't sure if she was really over Carl, and if he was really over his old wife, Terrie. Will knew he would be serenaded by the choir kids tomorrow anyway, and that Emma, and perhaps a few other colleagues would surely bring him a small something during the school day.

He wasn't sure if he was surprised or not to see a package on his desk. Deep down, he'd been hoping for a surprise party or something, and a package – no matter how un-lavishly decorated – was certainly something. He closed the door behind him, and sat down in front of the package. It was a plain, brown-paper envelope, with a typed sticker which read 'William Shuester' on it. He opened it. Out came – a large packet of papers. 'IMPORTANT!' read the top. He sighed. '_Happy Birthday, Will',_ he thought to himself. _You just got some paperwork!_

As it was important, and the fact that he really had nothing better to do, he took it out and read it.

Dear William,

I felt your team was in need of a well-deserved break. I also knew that the school's budget would not feel the same, so I have taken the liberty to use my own to fund this one. As I'm sure you and your students know, Spring Break is a coming, and well – let's face it, here in Lima Bean County, we are not going to find anything special to do. So let me invite you in on a secret: I'll fund something fun for you. Now, you probably don't have any grand ideas, but I do, and so even if a whim did just fleet across your mind, forget it, because it's my money and I will do as I choose with it. For Spring Break, I'm going to send you and your kids to Disneyland. Well, only for three days, but if you're good, I might bring you up to my lake for the remaining three. (I've subtracted a day for two-and-from flights – and yes, I'll be paying for those too.) As I've already mentioned, it's my money and I'm doing what I please with it – but do not worry, Will, I have only good intentions.

Anyway, I have already booked the rooms and composed an e-mail for you to send out, assuring parents that this will be a learning experience. Don't look until you are done reading this, but on the next page you will find a map of the hotel arrangement. To ease your curiosity, I will explain the details in brief here. Arthur will be in a single, handy-capable room, which has a door connecting to your room. This will give him the space he needs, the privacy he needs, and the security you feel he needs. He may be sad at first for being isolated like that, but assure him that it was the only handicap-accessible room left and minimize his time alone in there, and I promise he'll be grateful. Directly across the hall there is a room with two single beds – for Noah, or as you call him, 'Puck', and Finn. They will be fine with this even if they aren't on the best of terms.

Next to them is the room for Kurt, Matt and Mike – yes, I put Kurt with the guys, but it is the best way as they are the nicest guys and would've earnestly wanted Kurt with them anyway. Next door to your room there the room for Tina, Mercedes and Quinn, yes, Quinn, and right next door to them will be Brittany and Santana, oh and definitely not to forget Rachel.

You may be wondering why I left Brittany and Santana together and flopped Quinn and Rachel. Well, you know as well as I that Santana would've been - mad the entire trip if she hadn't been with Brittany, as well as the fact that Quinn needs stability, as well as an inclusive feeling which she'll be more likely to find in Tina and Mercedes, as well as the fact that Rachel is trying to climb the social ladder anyway – if you give her a solo, I promise she won't put up a fight. Well, at least not too big of one. And it shouldn't be a stretch for you anyway. Doesn't she usually get the solos? I digress.

The plane tickets are paid for – you'll be leaving Friday evening and – assuming, of course, you come up to my lake – yes, MY lake – afterwards, you'll be flying back the last Sunday morning of Spring Break. I think it sounds like a nice deal. I'd agree! The kids would love it. Hmm… what have I forgotten? Seats are taken care of on the flights – oh right! Feel free to invite Ms. Pillsbury. Emma, right? If you're feeling hesitant – here's logic she – or you – can't refuse: There should be a female chaperone on the trip as well – and who's better than the counselor to offer emotional guidance? I believe the room next to Arthur's is still free, as well as a seat in your section of the plane. Have fun.

Oh, by the way, I've been reading a lot of mysteries and have decided to play along. I don't want you to know who I am – nor do I want a mountain of thanks before you've even gone. Attached is a contract – the name you'll see is my lawyer's – but you'll know I already have myself pegged for jail if anything happens to those kids. In which case you'll know about it straight away, my name will be sent to you and you can then come and pay my bail (if you please…). It's all in the contract. Please say you'll say yes!

Signed,

Unsigned.

P.S. Just leave the contract on the piano in the choir room.

P.P.S. Happy Birthday! I won't ask your age – but I will tell you that there are two cupcakes in the first drawer of your desk. Sign the contract first, though. All of the information, Disneyland passes, Airplane ticket confirmations, Hotel information, lake information, transport information, etc. is in it. That's why the packet is so heavy. And Happy Birthday!

Will finally flipped the page. Sure enough, there was a map of the rooms, followed by a very official looking contract, signed in various places by an illegible signature. At first he wasn't sure if it was trustworthy, but at one point even Figgins had signed, which meant that it must be okay if the school was allowing it. It crossed his mind to blackmail his boss about the person, but decided against it. He didn't want to become a Sylvester. Plus, after reading through it, the package seemed worth it all. It definitely stood out that whoever it was had their insurance covering the trip (signed by said company) and was pegged for jail (signed by police official) if anything non –purely coincidental was to happen to those kids.

The contract was followed by two day Disneyland passes and food certificates – meaning each person would have to spend as little money as possible. This was followed by the flight information, Hotel information, Park-accessibility information (for Artie, no doubt), and then Bus –transport information and cabin information for the lake, and then a little 'Did you know?' page about the lake, Disneyland, and California. Finally came the e-mail, already written to the parents, and then his key to the first drawer.

Gosh, he'd already forgotten about that. He signed the contract without any further hesitation (he'd already spent an hour rolling it about in his head), sent the e-mail out to the parents, booked a room for Emma, prepared a permission slip to give to the kids (the one thing his benefactor had forgotten), and then, satisfied, put the contract back in the envelope, the rest for himself.

Opening the drawer, he found two cupcakes, with letters on them. One read, 'SAY', the other 'YES!' Will chuckled to himself before eating the 'YES!', and then leaving his office, coat and package under one arm and 'SAY' in the other's hand.

As he walked back to the parking lot, he smiled to himself. _'Yes,'_ he thought. Today had been a good day after all.

He didn't even think about his mysterious benefactor. He poured himself a glass of wine, listened to music and, eventually, got a good night's sleep.


	2. The Announcement

Sure enough, during lunch the next day, Emma brought him a peanut-butter torte, she called it, in a tribute to their weekly (well, her daily) peanut butter sandwiches. Emma, Shannon, and a few others sang him an out-of-tune 'Happy Birthday', and he laughed and sang along.

When he walked into the choir room after school though, he was serenaded by a half-pop half gospel version of the song – with amazing dancing by Matt and Mike – and naturally, perfectly in tune. Rachel brought in her famous 'Sorry' cookies – although this time she claimed they were her famous birthday ones. It didn't matter either way though – they tasted good anyway.

"Thanks guys," Will told his class. "Really thank you," he said, looking around at his students, who had been applauding him. "Now, I have a surprise for you."

"Mr. Schuester?" Rachel asked.

"One second, Rachel, can I just say my thing first,"

"Yeah girl, let the man speak," Mercedes told her.

"But Mr. Schuester, all I wanted to say is that if your surprise was having us sing a Medley from '_The Drowsy Chaperone_', I for one am completely for it, and it isn't a surprise because we all saw it lying on the piano, and I'll be happy to take the lead song part." She said, and put her hand down. A couple of her classmates groaned.

"Rachel – may I talk now?" Mr. Schue asked, just to make sure.

"Of course, Mr. Schue – and I'm sorry if I ruined anything, I just thought you'd like to-"

"Girl, hush," Mercedes told her once again.

"Thanks for your… um… concern, Rachel, but that wasn't my surprise – although yes we will be singing that, and it's a medley of different parts so theoretically there are no leads,"

"But I will be singing the part of the Drowsy Chaperone, won't I?" she interrupted, followed by multiple groans this time.

"Yes, that was what I had had in mind," Mr. Schuester responded.

"ANYWAY," Noah cut in.

"My surprise, right," Will took a breath. "So… who's up for a trip to Disneyland?"

"You're joking, Mr. Schuester,"

"No, I'm not, Quinn. We are going to Disneyland – all fees paid!"

The class still looked at him skeptically.

"During Spring break – here're the permission slips," he told them, passing the papers out. They weren't as excited as he had hoped they would be.

"Wait, Disneyland AND a private lake residence?" Kurt asked.

"Yes, Kurt,"

"And all expenses are covered?" Matt asked, cautiously.

"Yep – well, ninety percent. The expensive stuff and most of the meals."

"Is there a beach at the lake?" Santana asked.

"Yep, turn over the permission sheet."

"And everything's accessible?" Tina asked, eyeing Artie.

"Yep, that's all clear," Mr. Schuester assured them.

"And-" Rachel began.

"Enough questions, guys!" Mercedes said. "We are going to Californ-I-A!"

And, then, finally, the class erupted in cheers.

"That's so cool, Mr. Schue," Finn said.

"I'm glad you guys are so excited," he told his class. "Please be sure to bring in your permission slips in by the end of the week."

Brittany couldn't stop smiling. "I can't wait to meet Mickey Mouse," she said.

"Now, as Rachel stated before, we ARE going to work on a group medley from 'The Drowsy Chaperone,' however, Disney songs, of course, to get us in the Disneyland Spirit are always welcome as well."

By the end of the week, Will was surprised – pleasantly surprised – to have received all permission slips, as well as a few replies from parents to the e-mail he'd been instructed to send. Most of them just listed allergies of the kids – the only one which really went further was the one from Artie's mom – which gave info on how Artie knew all of this, but how he would need to shift every four hours, about his various medical supplies – Will hadn't even known all of the medical necessities Artie required.

He still hadn't given much thought to who the mysterious benefactor was – although he and Emma had studied the signature (she had come to the conclusion that it was most certainly not faked, which was good) and she had agreed to go on the trip when presented with the reasons he had been given for her, only adding,

"It is probably very important that I go for the safety of the children. Two sets of eyes can keep better watch than one."


	3. The Airport

As it goes, time flied. Before they even knew it, it was the Friday before spring break, and everyone was loading into the van that had been ordered to transport the club from the High School to 'Lima Bean Airport', as the benefactor had written.

Emma handed him the attendance list. "Everybody's here," she told him. "But Puck and Quinn just left to go get a couple extra things from their lockers." Will nodded.

"Thank you," he said.

"Should we begin loading the bus?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "Um… Can I have all of the guys come over here!" he called. Everybody nodded. "Okay, I want you guys," he pointed to Mike, Kurt, and Matt, "to help load all of the bags on. Finn, you and Artie can go get in the van," The boys nodded. (Alright, Kurt briefly questioned why he was being sent to work, but accepted his fate quick enough.) "Could you help Artie?" Will asked the jock as Artie headed off.

Finn nodded. "Of course, Mr. Schue,"

"All right girls, go along then, and help the boys with the bags. There's no need to be shy," Emma then told all of the girls, who went off to get seated in the van.

Puck and Quinn returned. "Where've you been?" Will asked them.

"Lockers," Puck said.

"Sorry Mr. Schuester," Quinn apologized.

"Right, it's okay," he told them, patting Quinn on the back. "Um, go on and hop into the bus – Puck – see if anyone needs any help first."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Schue." Puck saluted.

Finally they were all loaded onto the bus. Emma preformed a quick head count, and they took off.

They arrived at the airport somewhat later than expected, but managed to enter the waiting room on time. Well, most of them. Emma had stayed behind to wait for Artie, who was undergoing a pat-down, and whose wheelchair was being searched. He'd been the one to suggest the group going ahead.

Meanwhile, Puck was checking all of the vending machines in the area for spare change, and managed to get one energy drink and two quarters out of the whole thing. Tina, Mercedes and Kurt were all on their phones. Brittany and Santana were mostly chatting – although Will did notice them making out a couple of times. Finn was listening to Rachel talk on… and on… and on… - although he did nod and say 'what?' every so often. His eyes seemed to be observing the others, for example, Matt and Mike, who were arm wrestling after their dance-offs had been 'no-ed'. Quinn was on one of the pay-phones, probably talking to her mother.

Artie and Emma arrived right as it was time to begin boarding.

"Hello and welcome to today's flight to Los Angeles Airport, We would like to begin boarding and would like to please ask for passengers in need of extra assistance and passengers with children age of three and under to come to the desk for boarding. Elite frequent flyer guests are welcome to board at anytime. Thank you."

"Hey Wheels, that's you," Puck told Artie. Artie nodded. He really didn't like planes. He'd only flown a couple times before in memory, and he never remembered it as having been a good experience.

"Should I head up alone, or does one of you need to come with me?" He asked, looking at Mr. Schuester and Ms. Pillsbury.

Will and Emma looked at each other. After a moment of silence, Emma broke in with, "Let's go up and see if I should come with you, okay?"

Artie nodded and led the way to the desk. Will watched Emma – and Artie – be checked in and disappear behind the gates.

"It's kind a stupid," he heard Puck mutter to himself. "They come last, board first."

Quinn was only thinking that if she had brought her daughter, Grace, she would've been boarding too. But she had just checked in with her at home, and she had seemed pretty excited for a week with their Grand-mommy, Judy.

"Alright," Mr. Schue said when Emma – right, and Artie – were out of sight. "Listen for them calling rows seventeen and up – you guys all have your seats, right?"

A couple mumbled yes, but Rachel asked, "But Mr. Schue, we can sit wherever we'd like, right?"

He sighed. "You know what? Maybe on the way back, but now I think it'd be nice for us all to talk to someone we haven't talked to in a while. Sit where it says to on your ticket."

On the plane, Artie held onto the sides of the plane chair to keep his balance. The seat was so small and slippery, it was hard to.

"Seat 17 A, right?" The worker pulling the chair onto the plane asked him.

"Yep," he replied.

Emma stood a few steps back. She'd watched Artie move from his chair to the transfer one and was amazed. For both his toleration of other people, poor sanitation, the germs the chair probably contained – but also his grace in movement.

She hated airplanes. They were so unsanitary. One time, in the seat in front of her, she had found a loaded barf bag. It had been horrible. She looked at the little kids they passed on the way down the narrow aisle with mixed feelings – how she wanted a little one of her own, but how she also wanted to tell the parents to keep their children away from the germs of such a flight. She sighed.

Artie, meanwhile, was grateful to transfer off of the slippery transfer seat and into his own seat, right next to the window. He slid on over, positioned his legs just so, buckled the seatbelt, and thanked the worker as he was handed his bag. As there was a blanket on the seat, he covered his legs with it, thinking of his mom. He could almost hear her telling him to watch out for this, make sure he did that, et cetera, et cetera.

"Do you need anything?" the counselor asked Artie.

"Nope," he said, looking up and flashing a smile. "I think I got it all." She nodded.

"Well, I have seat 17G," she told him. "So I'm right across the aisle if you do."

He nodded, and then leaned forward to grab something out of his bag. Emma saw the rest of the group entering through the door.

"Alright," she heard Will leading his students. "Remember, please sit in your _assigned_ seat."

Slowly, the plane began filling up.

Emma and Will continued to stand up to monitor their students. Quinn went in next to Artie, and next to her was some stranger. Emma was next to Mike and Finn. Right behind them was Matt, Rachel and Brittany, across the aisle (behind Artie and Quinn) were Santana, Mercedes and an old man at the window, behind them were Tina, Kurt and some unknown, and across the aisle, all alone, was Will Schuester. He sighed. This hadn't worked out exactly according to plan.

He was having second thoughts about enforcing the given seating when he noticed that someone was missing.

"Where's Puck?" he asked aloud, startling the scruffy old man he was sitting next to.

"Luck? There's none anymore," the old man replied.

"Puck, sorry," Will told him, "I was talking about one of my students. Emma, have you seen Puck?"

Ms. Pillsbury turned to face him. "No, he was with you,"

Man… Will racked his brain. He'd been sure Puck had entered the plane with them. He stepped into the aisle, asking a flight attendant, "Have you seen a student, name of Puck – well, Noah, but he goes by Puck, for Puckerman, Noah Puckerman, about this tall,"

"Check up front," she said, pointing towards the cockpit.

"Sorry – Thank you," he told her, rushing to the front, almost running over a lady still trying to make her way to her seat. "Puck-?" he asked, turning the corner.

And there was Puck. …Making out with the flight attendant.

"Noah," Mr. Schue said sternly, causing Puck's eyes to open wide. Will grabbed his student's arm and pulled him back down the aisle, muttering 'sorry' to the flight attendant and then finally pulling him into the seat beside him on the plane.

"Seatbelts," the other flight attendant told them, passing down the aisle.

"Find a girl Puckerman?" Santana looked back to ask him.

"She's a babe," he told her.

"Ladies and Gentlemen welcome aboard today's flight from Lima Airport to Los Angeles, Starboard 1865-hundred. I'm Jeanie and I can already tell that you are one fine group of passengers."

"Good work, Puckerman," Santana high-fived him.

"…Shhh!" Mr. Schue quieted them.

"…Please watch the safety video as we prepare for take-off. Thank you, and have a nice flight."


	4. The Airplane

"Excuse me," the flight attendant told Santana and Brittany, who were making out over the aisle. "Sorry," she said, as she walked by.

The flight was almost over, and Will stood up to stretch his legs one last time before the plane landed.

"How you guys doin'?" he asked Tina and Kurt.

"Just fine, Mr. Schue," they replied. He nodded. He avoided Rachel's row – just for the sake of avoiding complaints, and he didn't talk to Santana – Mercedes was sleeping.

At row 17 he found Quinn talking to the woman next to her – the two were sharing photos of their children and seemed to be getting along quite well. Artie was lying back in his seat, his iPod in and his eyes firmly closed.

"Sorry," he said, interrupting Quinn's conversation.

"This is my teacher, Mr. Schuester," Quinn told the woman.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Lorna," she greeted him, offering her hand.

He shook it in return, then asked Quinn, "Is Artie asleep?"

"No," Artie replied, opening his eyes and surprising his teacher. "I just really, really, don't like airplanes."

Will nodded. "Well, hang in there," he said, reaching all the way over to grab his student's shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

Artie nodded and returned to his music. Will turned to face Emma.

"How's it going?" he asked.

"Oh, just fine, I think," she replied.

"Finn? Mike?"

"Oh, just fine Mr. Schue," they replied.

"That's good," he said. Finding nothing else to say, he simply said, "Well, I was just checking on everybody and stretching my legs for the last time before we land. …I guess I'll head to the lavatory too."

"Alright," Emma replied, nodding.

Mr. Schue strutted off to the bathroom – and found Puck with the flight attendant once again.

"Excuse me," he said loudly. Puck turned around. "Back to your seat!" his teacher told him sternly.

As he returned to his seat, the voice came over the loudspeakers once more.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please: We are now preparing for landing, so may I ask you to stow all of your bags either below your seat or in the overhead compartment, to put your seats in their upright position, fold up your trays, fasten your seatbelt and pull up your window shades. Thank you for choosing United today."

The plane kind of calmed down after that. Most people were probably just excited to get home. The plane began its descent, with tons of turbulence from the clouds. With every shake of the plane, his nervousness intensified.

Will looked through the window, leaning over the sleeping old man. It was pitch-black dark outside, even below the clouds, and the only light came from the flashing tips of the airplane. Will watched the calm, steady lights, mesmerized by the pattern of the lights and the sheets of rain falling.

_Flash!_ The pattern was broken as the plane shook and was flooded with light for just one second – lightning. Will began praying under his breath, and then saw the lights of the runway. _All clear,_ he thought to himself, thankful.

Then, only yards away from the runway the plane hit a headwind and jeered back up into the sky, all the way back to the clouds.

Will pounded his head back into his chair. He had jinxed it.

Once they were back in the clouds the plane began to circle. After about twenty minutes the captain came on.

"Hello, this is your captain speaking – due to a storm over the airport we will not be landing until the weather clears. Until then we will be circling. We are very sorry for this delay and hope to land safely as soon as possible. Thank you."

This wasn't good. But what could they do? Will decided the best thing they could do was to remain calm. They did, until about twenty minutes later – when the plane was still circling.

"Mr. Schue? Will?" Will heard Emma's voice. He leaned into the aisle. Emma was turned around, her eyes closed and with a pained look on her face. "Artie is having some… difficulties."

Lorna, the woman sitting next to Quinn leaned into the aisle. "He's airsick – probably from the circling," she said. "I just asked the flight attendant for some ginger-ale and crackers for him – oh there she is."

Will nodded and leaned back to give the flight attendant room to pass by. She handed Lorna the Ginger ale and crackers, asked if there was anything else she could do and returned. Will stopped her as she passed by.

"How's he doing?"

"He's throwing up into a barf bag. The girl is rubbing his back. When he has a break the woman will probably give him some crackers and the ginger ale to help settle his stomach."

Will nodded once again. "Thank you," he said, and the attendant retreated to the back of the plane.

Quinn rubbed Artie's back. Her mom had always done that for her when she was sick, and now she would do it for Grace. She was also really worried about Artie – she wasn't sure if this was purely motion sickness or not. She didn't know what to say but, "Shhh, it's okay"; so she did.

Will was worried. Artie was without care as far as he knew – now he was really regretting his decision to enforce the assigned seating. Emma couldn't – and wouldn't help, due to the germs, and he was stuck back here for the landing. He racked his brain, but in the panic of the moment couldn't remember a single thing that Mrs. Abrams had written him.

Artie stopped throwing up and pushed away the bag. Truth be told, he felt a lot better now. Lorna passed over some of those wet-towellettes. "From Ms. Pillsbury," she said.

"Thank…you," he gasped, leaning back in his chair.

Quinn wiped his face with the wet towel. He was still gasping for breath though. He coughed. "Are you okay?" she asked him, worriedly. He didn't respond, he just continued gasping for air, then suddenly jolted forward.

She caught him by the shoulders and pushed him back into his seat. "Please tell me what I can do," she told him.

"…Inhaler," he told her, after a moment's hesitation. "Front…pocket of my," he coughed, "backpack."

She leaned forward to get it out. Quickly finding it and not bothering to look at all of the other medical stuff in there, she handed it to him.

He took a puff, and then finally, after one more gasp of air, felt his breathing returning to normal. He avoided the thought of Quinn seeing all of his different medications and supplies. "Thank you," he told her, as she took the inhaler from his hand and put it back in the bag.

Lorna gave her the ginger ale and crackers. Quinn passed them to Artie. "Asthma too?" she asked, and he nodded, munching on a cracker. "It's much easier when you say what's wrong, trust me," she said, smiling at him. And she knew. The hours at night with Grace crying, and her not knowing why, but wishing she did.

"Sorry about that," he told her.

"Don't apologize!" she told him playfully. "Now drink some ginger ale."

"Yes ma'am," he said, obliging. "You don't need to… worry about me though," he told her after taking a sip. He didn't like people to look at him as some sickly person, because he wasn't. He just really, really didn't like airplanes.

"If you're embarrassed –" she said quietly, as he blushed.

"I'm-"

"If you're embarrassed, let's make this our secret. You watch out for me, and I'll watch out for you. We'll tell each other if something's wrong. Deal?"

"You sound like my mom," he said smiling.

"Sounds like a compliment to me," she said, returning a grin. She'd met his mom a couple times.

"Fine," he muttered.

"Alright then, now we're officially buddies."

"Ha, you make it sound so official."

"Duh, I just said it was," she said, poking him in the arm. He took another sip of ginger ale.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please prepare for landing." The flight attendant passed by again.

Will leaned over once she'd passed their row. "Emma!" he said, and she turned around, looking much calmer this time. "How's he doing?"

"Better," she told him. "Better."


	5. The Bus

"Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to LAX. The weather is much clearer now, local time being 10:42 with 68 degrees Fahrenheit temperature outside. We would like to thank you for an _amazing_ flight" Puck cheered. "…And to remind you to please wait in yours seats until the seatbelt signs go off to stand up. Thank you, and enjoy your stay."

As soon as the seatbelt sign flashed off, the entire plane was standing, it seemed, except for Artie and Quinn. Artie was folding the blanket that had been on his legs, and then he grabbed his backpack.

"Everyone can exit," Mr. Schue called over the hustle and bustle, "but please wait right in the gate with Ms. Pillsbury until we are all out there." He had decided that he should be the one to stay with Artie this time- especially after Artie's airsickness – she wouldn't want to have to deal with that.

"Did you hear that, children?" Emma asked; her voice audible (but just barely) over the commotion.

"Good landing, eh?" the old man next to Will asked. "Delay, but, what can you expect?" He'd slept through the entire fiasco. Will was extremely jealous. All he could do was give a curt nod.

"You can go ahead," Artie told Quinn, who had remained seated next to him, despite the fact that the rest of the plane was standing. "I'll be the last to exit."

"No, I'll stay with you."

"Really, Quinn, there's no need to wait up."

"Hey – we're official buddies, remember?"

"Oh, right…" he said. They watched the plane slowly empty. In truth, Artie just wasn't so fond of people watching him, pitying him, etc. He wasn't used to non-family members seeing him out of his wheelchair. Other than during 'Jump', the only other person in glee who had seen him out was Tina – and that was before he'd gone crashing to the ground. Because of his stupidity, which he now did his best to hide, but still.

Finally the plane was empty, and Mr. Schue walked over. "Hey, you waiting too?" he asked Quinn, who nodded. Artie was now waiting in the aisle seat, and Quinn was leaning on the armrest of the chair right across. "How're you doing, Artie?"

Artie could see the concern in his eyes. "Much better," he said, smiling. Will smiled back.

"Good. And be sure to tell me if you need anything."

Great, two people now, Artie thought to himself. "Don't worry Mr. Schue," he said aloud. "I'll get the word out." He looked at Quinn and she smiled.

Two of the workers then entered the plane in their neon-green jackets. They helped Artie into the chair, and this time strapped him on with a belt. Quinn took his bag from him.

"I've got this," she said. He nodded.

The men, one hunched over, guiding the chair and holding Merlin's legs and the other pushing the chair made it off the plane.

The flight attendants waved goodbye as they exited. Once again, Artie was placed securely in his own chair. He put his backpack over the back handles and arranged his feet. He reached for the rims, to begin heading along, but both Quinn and Mr. Schue stopped him.

"Artie, you need to rest," Quinn said quietly.

"I agree," Mr. Schuester conceded, and Artie's protests were cut off by a look from Quinn that made him stare at his lap.

Mr. Schue began pushing Artie's chair, and Quinn walked next to him, her own purse slung over her shoulder. "We're heading straight to baggage claim," Mr. Schue said. "Emma, I mean, Ms. Pillsbury texted me that they had headed over there in order to pick up everybody's bags."

Quinn and Artie nodded in understanding.

When they finally reached baggage claim, the group was already standing there with all of the bags.

"Sorry I made you guys wait," Artie apologized before anyone could stop him.

"No biggie," Matt said.

"Are you alright, Artie?" Tina asked him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. Quinn looked at him and discreetly raised an eyebrow. He avoided her glance.

"It's lucky you two have such unique bags," Ms. Pillsbury cut in, getting all focus off the sick talk.

"Yeah, we found the pink one real quick," Matt nodded at Quinn.

"It's absolutely amazing," Kurt cut in from where he was sitting – on top of his giant – literally – designer bag. Mercedes was sitting on her own suitcase right next to him – which was almost as big.

"Girl, you have to tell me where you get that," Mercedes agreed. Pink was her favourite color, after all.

"And of course, yours, Artie, has your initials on it." Finn said.

"Here it is," Mike handed it over to him. Mr. Schuester was about to steal it from Artie's lap and carry it himself but Artie already had the strap around his neck, and Emma handed Will his.

"I got yours," she told him.

"Thank you," he said, staring into her big, blue eyes.

"Ew." Puck said.

"Says the guy who made out with every flight attendant," Santana countered.

"Sorry," Mr. Schuester said, as Emma quickly broke the gaze. "Our bus is waiting for us at…" he looked in his papers. "Taxi and Bus section, door C. Vamos!"

"Ole!" Emma called, getting in the spirit. About half the kids laughed and half just followed awkwardly.

They began walking. Then, both Quinn and Mr. Schuester noticed Artie was pushing himself. Artie saw as they caught each other's gaze.

"It's fine," he told them. "Really, I feel much better." To prove his point, he pushed himself even faster.

When they reached the gate, they noticed the bus immediately – covered with Disney characters and a driver with the sign 'New Directions'.

"Alright," the driver said as the group clustered around the bus. "Bags and chairs go in the back –…" he looked at Artie. "You I'll put up front – and one other person can sit up front as well. Everyone else pile on in," he said.

He then pushed Artie up to the door, and he, through instructing Mr. Schuester on how; he and Mr. Schuester lifted Artie up and into the van.

"Are you sure okay?" Mr. Schue asked Artie as he handed him his bag.

"Yes! I'm fine and you can stop asking me that," he snapped.

Mr. Schue was taken aback. The driver, meanwhile, put Artie's chair in the back and closed the doors.

"You comin' too or what?" he asked the teacher.

"Yes, I am," he stuttered, and went around the car to sit in the middle via the driver's seat.

"Which hotel?" the driver asked, and Mr. Schue showed him the address. Then they started driving.

"I'm sorry Ar-" Mr. Schue began, but was cut off by his student.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you Mr. Schuester, but I really am fine and I hope you'd believe me by the 3rd time I say it. Sorry." In truth, he still felt disgusting from throwing up, and worn out from the plane, but he guessed that every single person in the van was tired, and who wouldn't feel the need of a breath mint after puking? "Really," he said again. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright Artie, I'm sorry too," Mr. Schuester patted Artie's shoulder.

"Mint?" Ms. Pillsbury offered.

"Thank you," both Artie and Will answered, each taking one. Artie was especially grateful.

Artie leaned his head against the cool glass of the window. He quickly fell asleep.

In the second row, Emma was alternating between staring at the back of Will's head and looking out the window. She couldn't wait until they got to the hotel, and hoped that they would get there soon.

Kurt and Mercedes were whispering back and forth to each other – all gossip and fashion of course. Kurt told Mercedes that he hoped there would be internet access at the hotel so he could e-mail Blaine.

"I'm sure there will be," Mercedes assured her friend.

Tina had fallen asleep too – but onto Mike's shoulder. He was stroking her hair and staring out the window.

Matt was semi-talking with Rachel and texting his family to tell them he'd arrived safely. Rachel was trying to talk to Finn, who was really tired and not in the mood for thinking. Quinn was texting her mom right next to Matt.

All the way in the back, Puck, Santana and Brittany were chatting. Well, Puck and Santana were. After asking if they would be greeted by Minnie Mouse, Brittany had promptly fallen asleep.


	6. The Rooms

_**So I'm really embarrassed. I uploaded the wrong chapter last week! If you are looking for a new chapter, please go to Chapter 5: The Bus - I'm really really sorry, but hopefully reading it will help you make sense of this one, at least, the beginning of this one. Thank you for your patience with me, and as always, any reviews, tips, or comments you may have for me are absolutely wonderful. I promise I'll do my best to upload the correct chapter next time!**_

"Artie," he heard his name. "Artie, wake up." Artie groaned. "Artie, we're going to transfer you back into your chair now," he opened his eyes, and groggily nodded. "One, two, three-" and he was back in his own chair again.

"Here's your bag," Matt passed his duffel bag to him.

"Thanks," Artie replied.

Once everyone was out of the van, Mr. Schuester addressed his students.

"Alright class, I'm going to go up to the desk and check us in, please just wait here until I come back."

Will walked up to the check-in desk.

"Hi, I'm here to sign in a school group – My name is William Schuester – here's our group sign-in number," he said, handing over one of the papers that had been included in the letter.

"Ah, yes, we were alerted that you'd be coming a bit late." Will was surprised. How could they've known? "If you'd just sign here and here," the man told him.

"Of course," Will replied, and filled in the information. It must've been the mysterious benefactor. It must've been. "Here you are," he said, handing the sheets to Bret, the sign-in person.

"Thank you, one second, let me just put the information onto the computer." Will waited for Bret to fill in the info. "Alright," Bret turned back to him. "Here are the keys, with room number, and at special request, names of people in the room – there's one key per person. And here's a message that was left for you."

Will was handed what appeared to be a printed out e-mail.

'Dear Will,' it read.

'How was your flight? I checked on it the whole way – I'm sorry about the storm, I would've stopped it if I could've, but if you recall that belongs under the category of out-of-my reach circumstances. I assume Bret has checked you in by now – he's very kind, so don't be shy about asking him for favors. That reminds me – ask him about dinner – I've already made reservations. This one's on me. Tomorrow your tickets will get you in the park early – but don't hand them out until breakfast; otherwise you may not see those kids for awhile. I'm sure you wouldn't mind though – you have your eyes set on Emma.

'Have fun,

'Unsigned.'

"Bret –" Will said, after reading the message.

"Dinner reservations are in 30 minutes. There is a table reserved for your group in the restaurant right down the hall."

"Thank you," Will said, only realizing after a second that Bret must be in on the whole plan. He'd have to find a way to wheedle the information out of him. "We really appreciate it."

"No problem," Bret said, smiling. "The elevators are just over there."

Will passed out the tickets and there was a mad rush for the rooms.

Puck and Finn made it to their room first. Both were extremely happy to find single beds all the way across the room from each other.

"Um… you can have the bathroom first," Finn told Puck, after they'd closed the door and stopped panting from their sprint. He planned to call his mom and tell her that they arrived safely.

"Alright dude, whatever you say," Puck replied, heading into the bathroom. Gosh, this hotel was sweet, he thought to himself. It was by far way, way nicer than anything he had at home. He lived with his mom, Gran and younger sister in a tiny apartment. He wasn't used to luxury like this. He did plan on calling his grandmother whilst Finn used the bathroom though.

Right next door, the silver medal winners, Kurt, Matt and Mike were dividing up the sleeping arrangements. There were two twin beds and a sofa that had been pulled out to make a small double bed.

"I call not having the couch," Kurt said immediately, touching his nose. Seeing the looks on Matt and Mike's faces though, he put his hand back down. "If that's alright," he added.

"Sure," Mike said. He didn't care.

"No problem, dude," Matt added. In fact, he kind of wanted the couch for himself. At home, he shared a room with his brother and always had the smaller bed. It would be nice, he thought, to have the bigger one for a change. "Do you want it, or should I take it, bro?" he asked Mike, trying to leave the hope out of his voice.

"You can have it, if that's alright," Mike said, relieved. He thought he wouldn't be able to sleep in a double bed – all he'd be doing would be thinking of Tina.

"Alright, it's settled," Matt said, setting his bag down.

Across the hall, the girls were getting settled into their rooms too.

Emma opened the door of her single room carefully, and carefully closed it behind her. The room seemed clean enough, she thought to herself as she set her bags down. She did a quick check all around the room, throwing the mint they had left on her pillow away and taking out one of her own. _This will do for a couple of days_, she thought to herself. _This will do._

Next door, Rachel reluctantly sat down on the single bed. Why had Mr. Schue put her with the lovebirds? She wasn't even friends with them! Especially not Santana.

"I suppose you two will be taking the double bed," she said dejectedly.

"Very smart," Santana said, linking pinkies with Brittany.

"Just, no… funny business," Rachel said, almost pleadingly.

"We're not comedians," Brittany said, looking at the pictures on the wall.

"Yeah girl," Santana added. "We're on vacation. Besides, don't you have gay dads?"

"Yes, I do-"

"Then there's no problem anyway," Santana cut her off. She wasn't going to let anyone get in the way of her vacation with Brittany.

Tina, Mercedes and Quinn had already figured out which beds each girl was going to get. No one had really cared, anyway.

Quinn was on the phone, talking to her daughter. Mercedes and Tina were at different mirrors, fixing their hair. When Quinn hung up, Mercedes said, "How's Gracie doing?"

"Oh, just fine," Quinn replied, smiling.

Mercedes smiled back, looking at Quinn through the mirror. "That's good."

"We're going to have to have a slumber party tomorrow night," Tina said suddenly.

"Oh yeah girl, now we talkin'," Mecedes agreed.

"A slumber party?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah girl – facials, junk food, and gossip,"

"Please?" Tina asked, turning around.

"Sure," Quinn said. What else was she supposed to say, no? Besides, it sounded fun. And she did want to get to know Artie's old girlfriend better.

Artie entered his room, the door swinging to a close behind him. He immediately went over to the mint on the bed and ate it in delight. Ms. Pillsbury's hadn't worked so well – or maybe he'd swallowed it in his sleep before it got the chance to freshen him up. Either way, he was grateful. Finally some fresh breath, he thought to himself.

Then he went to the mirror, to begin straightening up for dinner. As he was combing his hair, he saw as his leg moved off of the footrest and onto the floor. This was not good.

_Please not tonight, please not tonight,_ he thought to himself as he lifted it back onto the foot rest. He then watched it shake and slide back off.

That settled it. He wasn't going to dinner. He went over and locked his door.

Will had already finished combing his hair, checking out his room, and was already down, waiting for everyone to come to dinner. Slowly, everyone arrived. They were talking and chatting as they sat down, and Will couldn't help but think about how beautiful she was that evening. She seemed distracted though.

Then, he realized where her eyes were going. Artie. There was an empty space with no chair at the table.

It had been forty-five minutes since they'd entered their rooms. "I'll go check on him," he told her, and excused himself.

He found Artie's door, and knocked on it, but there came no reply. Worried that something could be seriously wrong, Will entered his room and knocked on the door between his and Artie's.

"Artie?" he called, pounding on the door. "Artie, I'm coming in-!"

He entered to find Artie, already in his pajamas, with wet hair, exiting the bathroom.

"I'm not coming to dinner," Artie said casually, stopping in his tracks as he saw his teacher.

"You need to eat," Will said.

"I did," Artie told his teacher. "I had a sandwich and leftover crackers in my bag."

"Artie why won't you –" then Will saw it. Artie's leg fell off his chair again. "Artie what-?"

"It's okay," Artie told his teacher. "Leg spasms," he said, as he lifted his leg back onto the chair – this time holding it in place with his hand so it wouldn't do it again. "I've taken a hot shower, and am about to take some meds for it." He knew his mom had sent Mr. Schue an e-mail, but wasn't sure exactly what info he'd been given or remembered. "It knocks me out – I should be one-hundred percent tomorrow – promise." He could still see the worry in Mr. Schue eyes. "It doesn't hurt –" he told his teacher, adding in his head, _I can't feel anything below my waist, remember?_ "I'm just going to go to bed," he told his teacher. He hoped he had made it perfectly clear.

Will just nodded. "All…Alright," he stuttered. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Artie nodded and smiled up at him, holding his leg close to his chair. "Sorry for keeping you from dinner – I should've warned you I guess." He gestured towards the front door. "Feel free to use the front entrance – can we lock the door between our rooms? You can use a key to enter the other one if you really need to."

Will rubbed the back of his neck and nodded. "Yeah, sorry Artie."

"It's okay, have a nice dinner."

"Feel better," Mr. Schue told him, exiting through the front door this time.

"_I feel fine_," Artie told his teacher pointedly. "I'm _just tired_, and heading to bed early."

"Right," Will said, nodding. He got the message.

"Good-night," Artie told his teacher as the door closed.

"Good-night," Will said.

Now Artie was feeling bad. He transferred to his bed after taking his medicine. As he set the alarm clock, took his glasses off, and finally turned the light off, he thought to himself, '_What a lousy start to a vacation.'_Before he could finish his thought, though, he was already dreaming.


	7. The Dinner

Will arrived back at the table. "Artie's not coming. The plane…um…tired him out." He looked up at his group. "Have you guys ordered already?"

"Yep," multiple students answered.

"Drinks are coming," Finn told him.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you. I just got you water – I you want something else you can order it when the drinks come," Emma said. "I hope you don't mind – food-wise you're having what I'm having."

"And what are you having?" Will asked cautiously.

"Steak." Will raised his eyebrows, surprised.

"Steak?" he verified.

"Yep," she pursed her lips."Living on the wild side, I guess."

Will smiled at her. "I think I like the wild side."

She smiled back at him.

Quinn took sips of her pink lemonade – her favorite beverage. She had really hoped Artie would be there so she could talk to him some more.

Mercedes noticed Quinn's dismal look, and when there was a pause in her conversation with Kurt (only because the salads had come) so she asked Quinn, "Girl, why you look so sad?"

"What?" Quinn shook her head, re-entering reality when she saw Mercedes looking at her expectantly. "Sorry, I didn't hear you."

"Miss the babe? You don't seem to happy tonight."

"Yeah, I guess… maybe I'm just tired from the plane."

"Alright," Mercedes looked her up and down. "I won't bother you now – we can talk about it later."

Quinn nodded and smiled a weak smile at her. "Thanks," she said.

"Kurt, which rides are you planning on going on?"

"Ooh, definitely the Haunted House." Kurt told them. Fun, scary, exciting, and no hair or clothing damage.

"What was that about my favorite ride?" Puck cut in.

"Oh, it's yours too?" Kurt said with a dejected, sarcastic look on his face.

"What I like to do is sit with the ladies, and if I like them, when they get scared, they nuzzle up into me, and if I don't right when they least expect it – Boo! I scare 'em."

"That's not nice," Brittany told him.

"No, it's not," Mercedes agreed.

"It's just a bit of fun," Puck defended.

"What's your favorite ride?" Tina asked Mike.

"I've never been," Mike said. "This is my first time."

"Really?" Tina asked.

"Yep – have you gone?"

"Yes, once before," Tina told him. She'd gone in her last year of elementary school with her parents – back when they still had had time for their daughter.

"I guess I'll have to stick with you then," Mike grinned.

Tina liked that. "I guess so," she said, kissing him.

After dessert, the kids retreated to their rooms with specific instructions to meet at the breakfast room between 7:30 and 8:00, as did Emma, whilst Will stayed to go talk to Bret.

"Hi," he said, approaching the counter.

"Can I help you?" Bret asked, turning around.

"Yes, I was wondering when you would get off… to chat, you know…"

"I'm married." Bret said, raising an eyebrow.

"Woah," Will said, "sorry, I am too – I didn't mean it like that… I just have some questions and I don't want to take out of your pay."

"Oh right, sure. I um, get off in 15 minutes – how about we meet at the bar then?"

"Sounds fine – and sorry."

Fifteen minutes later, Bret appeared in the bar.

"Hi," he said, offering his hand. "Bret,"

"Will," Mr. Schue replied, shaking it. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Just tap water for me please," Bret told the bar tender.

"I'll, um have a beer," Will requested.

"Sorry about earlier," Bret told him. "Figured it was better to just get it out – I didn't mean to offend you, but you are a choir teacher and all…"

"Yeah, sorry if it seemed like I was… um… coming on to you."

"No problem – and you probably didn't, just caution on my part."

"Got it."

"So, is the lady you're travelling with your wife?"

"No she's – she's the guidance counselor."

"Oh," Bret said, raising his eyebrows and taking a pause. He took a second, and paused. "Sorry it just – well, it's not my place to say."

"I'm not married," Will said straight out. "Divorced, actually. The guidance counselor is my girlfriend. Sorry I said I was married earlier – it wasn't true, I just was… shocked,"

"Taken aback?"

"Well, yes – and I sort of forgot everything but my own defense. Not about being gay, that's not offensive, but I didn't want to appear forward."

"Well I don't blame you," Bret said, knocking on the table. "How's that student of yours?"

"Student? –oh Artie,"

"The one who wasn't feeling well enough to come to dinner? Listen, I do hope he feels better – what rotten luck to catch a bug during your stay at Disneyland."

"I'm sure – at least I really hope – he will be feeling better in the morning." Will drank some of his beer. "So, anyway, I was meaning to ask you,"

"Oh, right,"

"Sorry?"

"Nothing," Bret apologized. "Go ahead."

"Right," Will continued. "You're in league with 'Unsigned' – our mysterious benefactor?"

"I can't say." Bret said.

'Now this really is like some detective novel,' Matt muttered to himself. "Listen," he said aloud. "Sorry if that was rude or disrespectful to the person who is… well benefacting," Will said and they laughed. "Emma and I are just curious, I guess."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Bret reminded him.

"I know, I know – and we do trust this benefactor – but at the same time we worry about the security of our kids." That was good, Will thought to himself. Good cover, good cover. He didn't want to sound like a nosey, selfish person. Because really? He was more curious because he didn't like being kept in the dark.

"Well, I will tell you this – I know more about the benefactor than you do – and I can assure you that they are one hundred percent credible."

"Thank you," Will told him. It was more than nothing.

Bret glanced at his watch. "Was there anything else you needed to ask me?"

"Wha-? Oh, no, thank you though."

"No problem – anytime. Well – I better be going – and tell the kids to stop by Bret if they need something."

"Right," Will said. "Goodnight."

Bret left, and Will sat alone to finish his beer.


End file.
